by Tracy Vo
And so they waited, and waited. Hour after hour passed. Then night fell. Most of the passengers had been standing up the entire time, and they were all exhausted. They just watched the crew, hoping to see some change of expression that meant the tugboat was in sight, but their faces remained frozen with worry as they looked out over the water.
At this point, Dad thought it was all over. They would never escape Vietnam. All that effort to get this far and now they’d most likely be captured. It was getting too dangerous for them out on the water; they’d been hanging around in the same spot for too long and it was now blatantly obvious their fishing boat was full of refugees. And if they did get caught, there was nowhere to run or hide. Dad tried not to think about what would happen if they were caught. What would he return to? Would he have to hustle in the black market for the rest of his life? Would his family still have a home in Ho Chi Minh City? Would Mum and he ever have their own children? How would he support them? All these questions came flooding in and for the first time Dad nearly broke down with tension and fear. He wanted to scream his frustration.
Dad stared out the tiny window; he thought he could see something in the distance but didn’t want to get his hopes up. It could be anything, or anyone. It could be sheer exhaustion, or hope. He shut his eyes tight, took a few breaths, opened his eyes again and focused out the window. There was definitely something out there, miniscule and fleeting, but he didn’t imagine it. Then the something became tiny lights. Dad knew they were boat lights as they started to edge closer, but he couldn’t tell what kind of vessel it was. It could be their next boat, a passing fisherman or the police.
One of the crew turned around, made eye contact with Uncle Five and gave him a reassuring nod. It was the tugboat they’d been waiting for! Everyone on the fishing boat watched in hopeful silence as it sailed closer to them. Then, at around 7.30 p.m., the other boat slowed and eventually stopped, still a fair distance away. The passengers had no idea what was happening—no one dared to ask questions and the only time the crew spoke to them was to give them instructions—though Uncle Five seemed to know more than most. He watched the crew whisper among themselves and immediately suspected that something was wrong. It was clearly their boat, but why had it stopped? Uncle Five quietly shared his thoughts with Dad but no one else—he didn’t want to raise anyone’s hopes in case it wasn’t the right boat, nor did he want to frighten the others with his fears.
Another two silent, agonising hours went by. Still, the other boat had not moved. But suddenly there was commotion at the back of their own boat. People were pointing and the crew frantically pushed their way through the passengers. Then Uncle Five and Dad saw what was causing all the fuss—the rear of the boat was filling up with water. The wood had deteriorated during their journey from Long Xuyen, and being overloaded with passengers, the boat was going under.
Everyone started to panic; most of the passengers didn’t know how to swim. Uncle Five tried to reassure his family, but even he could not hide his fear. He later told me that it was at this point that he almost broke down. He couldn’t believe this was happening. They had come so far, and their next move was so close. Freedom was so close. He didn’t want his family to go this way, drowning in a shabby fishing boat in the middle of nowhere.
Uncle Five, Dad and their brothers joined the other passengers who were desperately trying to scoop water out of the boat with anything they could. Buckets, rice bowls, bare hands. But more water flowed in, and the second boat was still stationary and far away. For more than an hour the escapees scooped water out of the fishing boat, trying to keep it afloat, but it was slowly sinking. Then, finally, at about 10.30 p.m, the crew members must have received a signal because they told the passengers to get ready; they would all leave the fishing boat very soon.
By the time the tugboat pulled up alongside them, the need for silence had long been forgotten and many passengers were screaming and crying with desperation and fear. The crew tied the two boats together but, despite the sinking fishing boat, did not let anyone move. Some of the crew tried to calm the passengers down, while others boarded the tugboat. Uncle Five was later told that there were two Communist officers on the tugboat who had been drugged with sleeping tablets during dinner, and the crew had been forced to wait for them to fall asleep before they could meet the fishing boat. The officers were tied up and locked in a separate part of the boat, where they would remain for the journey.
At last it was safe for the refugees to leave the fishing boat. One by one, urged on by the crew, they boarded the tugboat quickly and quietly. They were then ushered below deck, where they would remain hidden until the boat reached the safety of Malaysian waters.
Dad and Uncle Five helped the other passengers onto the tugboat. By the time they got to the last few passengers, Dad was knee-deep in water and the fishing boat was almost under. He finally jumped on himself, the last person to embark. Before he went below deck Dad stopped just once to look in the direction of Vietnam for the last time.
Dad says it felt like they spent days below deck—it was pitch-black, they couldn’t hear anything outside and it was terribly crowded—though apparently it was just a few hours. This boat was in much better condition than the fishing boat. It was newer, sturdier and much cleaner. The confinement gave Dad time to catch his breath, and think about what they’d experienced. Most of all, Dad thought about Uncle Five, who had organised and paid for these seventeen people in his family to escape. It had cost Uncle Five everything he had, and most of the group weren’t even his own relatives but those of his wife, the Vo family. Yet he treated every one of them like they were his own blood. Uncle Five’s love for his family would spread over decades and continue to the next generations. Most of us would not be alive today if it wasn’t for this incredible man and the sacrifices he made.
7
RISING SUN
Sunlight suddenly flooded the hold, forcing Dad to shield his eyes. He awoke from a deep sleep, the first real rest he’d had since the last night at his brother’s house in Ho Chi Minh City, and for a moment he forgot where he was.
The crew had come below deck with good news. ‘We have crossed the border! We are now in Malaysian waters!’
For the first time there was no fear, no tension, just relief. They were finally safe. Or so they thought. Then the crew called Uncle Five to follow them above deck, and the brothers and sisters looked at each other. Aunt Five urged her husband to stay with them; she had a bad feeling.
‘It’ll be all right. I’ll be back in a moment,’ said Uncle Five, who followed the crew up the companionway. But just a few minutes later one of the crew members came back down and pointed at Mum.
‘You, come with me.’
Dad tried to hold her back. ‘Why do you need her?’ he asked.
‘She needs to come with me now. Brother Five needs her help.’
Dad could see his brother’s face through the open door. He gave Dad a reassuring look, as if to say, Don’t worry. I’ll look after her. As Mum followed the man up the companionway, the door shut behind her.
Dad had heard stories of other boat journeys where women were strip searched and even raped, but he knew Uncle Five would protect her. The crew regarded Mum as an important member of the group, and knew that Uncle Five relied on her for a lot of things. What they didn’t know was that most of the family valuables were hidden on her body.
The crew looked grimly at Uncle Five. ‘We need more money,’ one of the men said. ‘The journey has cost more than we expected and now you must pay us everything you have.’
Uncle Five shook his head in stunned disbelief. ‘That’s impossible. I’ve given you more than enough already.’
Mum silently admired his bravery.
Then the crew pointed at her. ‘You, you give us more money,’ one of them said.
Mum was confused; she couldn’t understand why they suddenly needed more money, but if her brother-in-law wasn’t going to give in, she certainly wouldn’t eith
er. He had paid an enormous amount of money to secure their freedom. The crew only wanted more because they hadn’t split his payment evenly among themselves.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I didn’t pay for any of this,’ she said. ‘Brother Five paid for it all. So if he doesn’t have any money, why would I?’
‘What else do you have then?’ one of the crewmen asked, his eyes scanning Mum’s jacket and long pants.
They were about to start searching her but Mum pulled out the small bag that Aunt Five had given her in the park at Long Xuyen. ‘This is all I have. If you want it, just take it.’
One of the men grabbed the bag and emptied its contents into his palm. They scoffed at the jade and pearls—all they wanted was gold and cash.
‘Why would you bring these with you? Ah, we don’t want them,’ and the man handed the bag back to her.
Mum, afraid they’d strip and search her, suddenly tightened up her pelvic area where she had hidden the three gold pieces. She also had her wedding ring in the sleeve of her shirt. She didn’t draw attention to it. She stared down the crew, and gave nothing away. They looked at Uncle Five, who was only wearing shorts and a shirt; there was nowhere to hide anything of much value.
Uncle Five had been brewing with anger and now he could no longer contain it. ‘This is ridiculous!’ he snapped. ‘I’m the only one who paid you a lot of money. I probably paid the most out of everybody on this bloody boat.’
Mum was scared the crew might retaliate but Uncle Five wasn’t afraid; he knew he had done more than enough for these people. My uncle has a commanding manner; he never yells but his tone and the words he uses can make adults feel as if they’re young children being scolded. Uncle Five may be a short man but he has the strength of a giant.
The crew cowered, Mum says, as Uncle Five continued to give them a piece of his mind. ‘I gave you money to buy the fishing boat, that useless fishing boat that wasn’t even strong enough to hold us all. You said it was sturdy enough but we could have drowned! Do you remember how much I paid you? I gave you thirty-two pieces of gold and five million dong!’
Five million dong was a lot of money in those days and, apart from the three pieces now hidden in Mum’s underwear, the gold was all he’d had. On other boats some escapees had paid crews only ten pieces per person; Uncle Five had not only paid for seventeen people and bought the fishing boat but he had also given more to the crew.
‘I paid all this money up front, a long time before this journey. You could have run off with it all. I trusted you people, and I paid in advance so you could trust me.’
The men started to hang their heads in shame. Uncle Five was on a roll. ‘How can you ask me for more? Isn’t that enough? If I didn’t buy that fishing boat, how could all these people be here on this tugboat right now, ha?!’
One of the men sheepishly replied, ‘You are right, Brother Five. We are so sorry for asking. I don’t know what came over us.’
Uncle Five just looked at them in disgust. ‘Greed, that’s what came over you people.’
‘We’ll call everyone to come on deck and we can discuss where we will go next,’ the crewman said.
Uncle Five kept his expression controlled and stern but deep down he was shaking with fear and anger, and also very relieved he was able to prevent the situation from becoming a disaster. It wouldn’t have been the first time that a boat crew had swindled their desperate passengers. Mum and Dad have heard stories of other groups of escapees who were strip searched and robbed of all their belongings. Some crewmen would resort to violence, even throwing innocent passengers overboard. People were so desperate for money. Most who escaped by boat carried nothing so the crew couldn’t take anything from them. Uncle Five and Mum turned their backs on the crew, hoping this wouldn’t happen again.
The crew now called all the passengers onto the deck. It was time to enjoy the moment they were finally out of Vietnamese waters. They couldn’t believe how calm and smooth the sea was, like a river. Then it hit them—they were on their way to freedom. But they still didn’t know their final destination. Uncle Five and the rest of the family thought they were going to Malaysia but the crew wanted to head to Singapore.
‘Why not Malaysia? We can see all the islands and it’s so close,’ said Uncle Five.
‘It’ll be easier in Singapore. Life will be better there.’
Uncle didn’t want to argue anymore. He was so exhausted from the journey and from haggling with the crew about money.
So they bypassed Malaysia and spent more days at sea, sailing closer and closer to Singapore. As they approached land, their tugboat was stopped by the Singapore navy. Some officers boarded the tugboat and chatted briefly with the crew but, after a quick look at the group, they left.
One of the crew walked over to Uncle Five. ‘We’ve been turned away. They say there are no refugee camps in Singapore. The officers have advised us to head back to Malaysia. Sorry, Brother Five.’
‘As long as we’ll be accepted in Malaysia.’ Uncle Five was becoming impatient. If only the crew had listened to him instead of wasting days at sea. At least they were safe, free to head back to Malaysia where, hopefully, they would be accepted.
By 1978, hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese had fled to Thailand, the Philippines and Malaysia. Refugee camps had been set up in remote areas of each country, or on tiny islands in the region. A few days later they reached the group of islands they had encountered when the boat first entered Malaysian waters. They all looked beautiful—tropical islands packed with palm trees, fringed with white sand and surrounded by pristine blue water. A true paradise. There were plenty of small commercial fishing boats about; some were older than others.
The crew decided to drop anchor for the night; they planned to sail on the next day to look for an island they could land on. It was a busy area for legitimate fishing boats and some of them started surrounding this lonely tugboat in the middle of the ocean. The fishermen knew exactly what kind of boat it was—a boat full of refugees from Vietnam.
Eventually one of the fishing boats pulled up alongside the tugboat. Luckily Uncle Five was able to converse with the fishermen, who only spoke Teochew, a Chinese dialect, and seemed happy to help this group of refugees. After a short conversation Uncle Five turned to the crew and his family.
‘I’m going with this fishing boat but I’ll be back later,’ he told them. ‘The men have offered to help me explore the islands so I can decide where we should land.’
By this time, some islands were so overcrowded with refugees that there was hardly any space on the beaches. Some island centres had run out of space so the refugees had to build their own homes out of wood and whatever else they could find. It was very basic living, but it was still better than they had expected. Some South Vietnamese were stranded there for years.
‘Are you sure?’ Aunt Five asked. She doubted these men were genuinely offering to help.
Uncle Five assured her that he would be fine and, as it turned out, the fishermen were very helpful, showing him around their island home and even buying him some noodles for dinner. It was the first time in almost a week Uncle Five had eaten a proper meal. He discovered that the fishermen also provided the refugees on the islands with food and other supplies on behalf of the United Nations, and they were trying to figure out which island had too many people by the amount of food they were delivering. After dinner the fishermen invited Uncle Five to stay the night at their home, promising to return him to the tugboat in the morning. He was so grateful for their generosity; under the circumstances, food and a bed for the night were an unexpected luxury.
Dad believes the fishermen were so kind to Uncle Five because of the way he spoke to them—with modesty and respect. Early the next morning, when the fishermen returned Uncle Five to the tugboat, for some reason they didn’t sail off straight away. Dad went over to Uncle Five, who was at the bow of the tugboat with the crew.
‘The fishermen know an island that isn’t too crowded, one that woul
d be good for us,’ Uncle Five explained. ‘They know because they deliver food to refugees there. But they can only guide us and signal which island to head for—if they sail too close to us, they’ll get in serious trouble.’
He asked the crew if they thought it was worth trying, and they all agreed, so Uncle Five turned to the fishermen and nodded. The fishing boat sailed off, with the tugboat chugging far enough behind.
They sailed for hours, the crew and passengers of the tugboat keeping a lookout for a likely island. It seemed as if they had passed many options but still the fishermen kept going. Then, finally, after midday on 31 April, one of the fishermen waved. It was the agreed signal. Uncle Five waved in response, then placed his palms together and bowed gratefully to them.
They arrived at the island of Pulau Tengah, a small beach island located off the south-eastern coast of Malaysia, which became famous as a Vietnamese refugee transit camp before it was closed in the early 1980s. The UN Refugee Counsel camp, where the refugees waited to start their new lives in Europe, Australia, Canada or the United States, had been established a few months earlier. This island, with its white sand and calm waters, looked so fresh and welcoming to the refugees after the distressing week on board the tugboat.
But before they could land they were stopped by a United Nations boat. Several officials—some with the United Nations and some members of the Australian Committee, the organisation that decided who could resettle in Australia—boarded the tugboat and had a quick conversation with the crew. One man from the Australian Committee stepped forward and, with the aid of a Vietnamese interpreter, addressed the group.
‘Please don’t be alarmed. I would like to inform you that we, the Australian Committee, have given you all immediate approval to resettle in Australia. We will take you in.’